Ramblings of a journalist
by vicomtess-de-changy
Summary: Manon Valois is a journalist living and working in Paris. She is a talented writer and soon becomes involved in pursuing a certain 'O.G'. These are the diary entries she writes daily.
1. Entry 1 - An Introduction

I have decided to begin writing down my experiences on paper. I figure that this will keep me sane while I write my part on the Opera Ghost! Does that sound odd? Allow me to explain:

I am a journalist for _La Gazette de Paris_ named Manon Valois, which was only established the year before, and I am one of the boss's favorites. The Opera Ghost is... a mystery that I am attempting to solve. He, I believe it to be a he, is only a shadow that I long to get a clear view of. So far, I know next to nothing about this so called 'Ghost', but I do know about the mayhem he causes at the Palais Garnier, and his apparent dislike for any leading lady. Signora Guidicelli seems to be a special hate of his.

These entries will be short, at best, but I will try to write daily, or just whenever I can.

~ _M. Valois_


	2. Entry 2 - The new diva

Well, writing every single day seems to have taken a bit of a nosedive. It's been a few weeks since I last wrote, and I only write today because something _very_ large happened!

I was sitting in on a rehearsal for _Hannibal_ , only planning to report on the arrival of the new managers, which I did, when the Opera Ghost struck! M. André requested that Signora Giudicelli sing her aria from act three of the opera, and she obliged. This taught me a new fact; the Opera Ghost _despises_ her singing voice. In truth, it is not bad. She is talented but carries no soul behind it, which may be the reason for his displeasure. Regardless, she sang, and the Opera Ghost dropped the scenery behind her with a tremendous crash!

The Chief of the flys, Joseph Buquet was blamed, though I realized it was the Opera Ghost after seeing a shadow escape up on the rafters that it was not he. Also, many members of the chorus cried out in fear of the Opera Ghost, which I learned may also be called the 'Phantom'. For simplicity, I shall call him by this name too. Less Wordy.

Giudicelli stormed out in a diva fit, and the performance was left without an Alyssa on opening night. This would be awful, if not for one of the chorus girls being volunteered for the lead by a ballet girl. Christine, that was her name, sang with a beautiful light tone and was quite pretty when I saw her. The Opera Ghost seemed to like her too, for I spied his shadow watching from Box 5, unmoving. I think she will be a star, that girl, despite her youth.

I was unable to attend her performance this evening, though I am told that she was incredibly good, a talented actress as well as an angelic singer. I am praying she stays a favorite of the new managers, as I do not think I can deal with Signora Giudicelli's attitude anymore.

~ _M. Valois_


	3. Entry 3 - First Encounter

It is very early in the morning, but I have decided that I simply _must_ write this all down before I pass out of tiredness. Even as I do write, I am looking over my shoulder, praying I do not see those supernaturally amber eyes.

I was awoken at about eleven at night when I received the message that Mme Daae had disappeared from her dressing room. Gone without a trace. Although a police investigation was launched, they could not find any evidence of the suspected foul play. I thought I had an idea of what had _really_ happened, and I was horrified to find out just how right I was.

Upon hearing the news, I dressed as best I could from my nightgown and took a carriage to the Palais Garnier, notebook in hand. It seemed that the investigation was clearing up for the evening, but I was still allowed to roam the place, told that if I learned anything new to report back. When I entered, the first thing I noticed was how eerily silent the hall was. It was dark too, so I was grateful to be handed a lantern on my way in.

Upon pressing further into the opera house, I felt a slight breeze. This would not have been odd if not for the fact I was very deep into the theater. The breeze built, and my lantern flickered and died, so I left it behind, put off slightly by the incident. The staff could pick it up in the morning, and possibly pick myself up on the way, if what I thought was happening truly did.

"I am not frightened of you," I murmured, quite obviously lying. Whilst the Phantom amused me slightly in his 'pranks' against the leading ladies, it was still very obvious that he had a powerful influence. A spectral laugh echoed from no discernable place, and it sent a shiver down my spine. There he was.

I could not be sure whether he was hunting me, or if he was simply toying with me, like in a game of cat and mouse. Either way, I was not going to give him the satisfaction of intimidating me whatsoever. Besides, I had yet to reach the dressing room from which Mme Daae disappeared. If I knew what was best for me, this is where I would have turned back.

The door was surprisingly unlocked and opened with a click that made me jump in the silence, as if I was wary of alerting the Ghost. In my mind, I could not help but imagine him right behind me, breathing down my neck. Bravely stepping my way into the room, I saw it lay untouched, as if Mme Daae had never even been there. It looked _too_ clean. _Too_ tidy.

I was just about to turn and leave when I noticed a faint glow behind me. It was coming from the mirror. When I looked towards it, I saw him. Only his upper torso was visible in the mirror, the rest melting into the darkness, but there were no defining features. I squinted. He was wearing a mask! So that was why I could not read any expression. For a few minutes that seemed like hours, we stared at each other, and I had only just barely realized I had approached the mirror. I was within touching distance of him.

My throat had closed up. I was unable to utter a single word before he raised his hand through the mirror towards me, pulling me towards him by the neckline of my dress. I do not know what happened afterward, as I passed out. When I awoke, I was at home, wondering if it had been a dream. This was only a few minutes ago at the time of writing.

It was just as I was coming to my senses that I felt a pain around my neck. Checking in the mirror, after turning the lights on, I saw that the source of the pain was a red mark, vaguely in the shape of a hand. The next thing I observed was a small note left on my dresser, which read:

 _'Curiosity killed the cat. Cease meddling in my affairs and I shall leave you be. Should you return to the Palais Garnier, know that I will not let you get away so easily._

 _~ O.G'_

I have no choice to return. Still, I am frightened. It is from this confrontation I have deduced that the Opera Ghost is the reason behind the disappearance of Mme Daae. Even if it kills me, I will bring him to justice.

~ _M. Valois_


End file.
